Soul Mates
by xxjonasangelxx
Summary: An extended version of how Season 1 should have ended. Joan thinks Sherlock's an Idiot and maybe just this once Sherlock agrees with her.


Joan Watson was brilliant. Sherlock couldn't take credit for her ability to think 10 moves ahead of Irene and in a way so simple and yet so brilliant it beat even his own genius. Maybe that was why she worked so well, why she was such a good detective, she was simple… she didn't over think things. Irene or Moriaty as she was more widely known was like him, they were the same. They'd both made that clear… they were the same and they'd fallen in love with something so familiar. They over think things until only one course of action makes sense anymore and sometimes they're so busy other thinking it they don't see a basic twist in their complicated story.

What surprised Sherlock most about Watson is that she didn't seem at all fazed by the fact that she almost single handily had taken down the world's largest and most influenced criminal. She seemed more concerned with re-stitching Sherlock's wound and cleaning up the mess the shooting had left. Irene's arrest meant changes, there would be no secret agenda to murder, at least no agenda that Sherlock and Watson couldn't figure. But then Sherlock wasn't naïve enough to think she'll stay in prison, if she even gets that far. Irene's like Sherlock… she'll get the people on the jury on her side and she'll go free. But the news of her capture would put a lot of people's primary motivations to do as they please into play so Sherlock too pride in knowing that if he couldn't stop her, he could at least slow her down considerably. It wasn't what she deserved, but it was he would give until he was properly healed and make to doing what he does best.

Sitting on that roof with Watson by his side, Sherlock felt something he'd never actually felt before. Love and appreciation. Sure he would tell her that he appreciated things she did and he did actually appreciate them, but not this kind of appreciation. It was like she was now a part of him. He had meant it when he say 'I'm better with you Watson' and if only she could understand just how much better he was she wouldn't be so causal about it. Even calling one of his beloved bee, a new species no less didn't seem like enough. Thanking her in words didn't seem like enough either and what annoyed Sherlock to no great end was that all Watson wanted was to get back to normal and all he wanted to do was make her see just how much he appreciated her.

"Watson I—" He cut off, how did he start saying something like that? About how she is loved what their relationship had become. He had shown Irene that there were 2 people in the world that could surprise her, but now there was only one person would could generally surprise him and that was the women sitting next to him. Much like the surprise she was bringing to affect in him right now.

"Sherlock You don't need to thank me" Her deduction simple by all means "You don't have to say or do or feel anything. As long as you're okay and you're not pushing yourself so hard that your stitches come out again then we're good" Sherlock analysed what she said and it was logical, too logical for even Joan after such a tiring case.  
"What is it you really wish to say?" He asked, knowing she would know just what he was referring to, he had trained her after all.

"You're an idiot you know that right?" Sherlock laughed whole hearted at her usual demand for him to know about himself but once again proving to surprise him with such bluntness.

"ah and what for this time?" She sighed, glancing back through the magi fine glass.

"For thinking that just because I was expressing concern I wanted to end this partnership" Sherlock stopped himself for a moment, is that what he thought?

"You became so confused about Irene, about how she could possibly be the person you've been hunting for the last year and like you always do you question everything because that idiotic brain of yours does not stop. I'm staying, I'm never going anywhere and if you ever doubt that again, I'll unleashed these bees on you and the whole of New York" Joan had a small smile on her face, she wasn't serious about the bees, but everything else was said with an honesty he'd only ever seen in her.

"I'm not Irene Sherlock" She continued "Stop comparing me up to her standards, because she's both the best and the worst part of all that you are" Sherlock almost smiled. Should he really be surprised she was bringing this up now? But what made Sherlock second guess himself was the fact that Joan almost seemed insecure about Joan assuming Sherlock thought she was like Irene. Sherlock already knew that Irene brought out his best and his worst. It wasn't until Joan said it that he realised that she was wrong.

"She's my worst Joan" Using her first name set an undertone of honesty to their convocation "You… you are my best" Watson didn't smile or react like a women who's been complimented, a welcoming and refreshing trait in a women that Sherlock had come to cherish.

"You think one day I'll become your worst too?" Sherlock shook his head, grabbing her hands after placing her phone on the bench between them. He tried to calm her insecurities, modest! Sherlock always had to remember that Joan was modest about her abilities, that she didn't see herself as anything special. But she was, she was beautiful, magnificent and most importantly simple.

"My worst is now better Watson. My worst in on the mend and once again it is you I have to thank" Joan smiled then, concentrating on his light touch that clung to her hand. Nothing more needed to be said because maybe that's was all that needed to be said.

Sherlock couldn't promise Watson a lot of things, a 'normal' Average life for one. But the one thing he could provide was adventure… adventure in murder and mystery. They'd become… simple. Simple in a partnership that's never going to end and Sherlock wasn't sure he could image life without Watson. His grip on her hand became a little tighter… scared for the first time since Irene had been taken from him when he assumed everything was still as it seemed.

Watson's grip equalled in strength because it was the only comfort she could provide. He brought adventure and she brought simple, easy, simple and normal. A mixture no one ever thinks will work, but put them together and… it becomes something more. Something beyond the platonic ins and outs that is their relationship because despite their even knowing they'd become something…more. Those hands that seemed to fit just a little too perfectly, might… just might be made for each other.

Simple and complicated. Opposites but perfect for one another… better known as

Soul-mates.


End file.
